


Met in Paris

by remusirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Drarry, FTM, FTM Harry Potter, M/M, Nonbinary Harry, Trans!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remusirius/pseuds/remusirius
Summary: When Harry first sees Draco, reason speaks against ever getting to know him, Harry's brain finds.But when has Harry ever listened to reason or his brain?





	1. Paris is too Hot in Summer

**Author's Note:**

> this is thanks to everyone who left kudos and/or a comment on my other work (After Four Years)  
> thank you to everyone!

“Il ne transpire pas trop, le jeune monsieur”, said a voice somewhere to Harry’s left side. It took him a second to realise that the man standing to his left side was talking about him, the statement half directed at him, half at another man sharing the same small space near the doors of their Paris Metro train. At the realisation, a small smile formed on Harry’s face. He turned his head towards the man who had spoken and said: “Je pense que je transpire assez. C’est trop chaud.”  
“C’est vrai”, agreed the other man. They didn’t exchange any more words after that, yet the short conversation had cheered Harry up and offered a bit of a distraction from the slightly overwhelming heat.  
Soon enough, the speaker in the train announced the next stop. As the train drew into the platform and the doors opened to let people out and in, Harry let his eyes wander over the crowd on the platform. A spot of blonde hair so fair it was nearly white caught his eye. Following the bright spot with his eyes as it moved into the train, he eventually got to see a very handsome face. Perhaps not considered beautiful by society’s idea of beauty, with its pointy chin, long nose and pale complexion, the face certainly struck Harry as beautiful after a second. He could, however, not ignore the expression of disgust on the face. Harry was peculiar about those things, and had it been faint, he might not have minded so much – no one was overly joyed at the prospect of sharing a cramped space with bad (read: non-existent) ventilation with fifteen or twenty other people in this heat.  
But most people managed to keep up a poker face or resting bitch face.  
Harry’s smile disappeared off his face. Why did he usually fancy the assholes?

*

‘Got my train, cu soon, xx Harry’, Harry texted Sirius from his seat on the train back to London.  
He’d no sooner got his headphones out and put some good music on than he noticed someone standing next to him in the train’s aisle. Sighing internally, he shifted his headphones so that he could hear what the other person had to say and looked up at their face. He was surprised, if not entirely delighted (well, some parts of him were very delighted, but he refused to pay them any attention), to see the person standing next to him was fair-hair-pointy-face.  
This time, instead of disgust, plain annoyance and badly-concealed anger disfigured the handsome face somewhat.  
“I’m on the seat next to you”, the blonde guy informed Harry, sounding rather snobbish but not actually like he meant to be rude or angry at Harry, Harry had to admit. Cursing his weakness for good looks and his too nice manners, Harry slowly got up to let other guy get past him into the window seat, then sat back down on his own seat, shifting his headphones back into place and closing his eyes. Great looks or not, he was going to appear as uninviting for a conversation to the other guy as he could. Thus they spent the next two and a half hours in silence, with a brief nod good-bye in London before departing the train.  
When he stepped out of the train, Harry closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before walking out of the international part of the station to meet Remus and Sirius. It was good to be back home, if also a bit weird after more than half a year away.

*

Still altogether too stunned, Harry stood in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place, looking at the small piece of paper in his hand. It contained nothing more than a phone number and the letter D as a sole signature. Yet he was fairly sure he knew who’d put it there, seeing as he’d washed his jacket just before going to Paris and hadn’t needed to wear it until the day before, when he took his train back home. The one thing he couldn’t figure out was why the blonde guy might have done it.  
He supposed there was only one way to find out.  
Yet fifteen minutes later, he was staring at his slowly cooling tea, note and phone untouched on the counter next to it, which was the way Remus found him when he entered the kitchen.  
While Remus prepared a cup of tea of his own, Harry started sipping his now lukewarm tea and pretended to be immensely interested in his phone’s Facebook feed.  
“What’s this?” Remus asked, pointing towards the note still lying on the counter.  
‘Sometimes, you are an utter idiot’, Harry told himself before answering: “A note. Found it in my jacket’s pocket this morning.”  
“A note? Is that what you kids call it these days? Because to me, it rather looks like a number.” Remus picked up the paper. “Without a proper signature, too. My my.”  
“Give it here”, Harry said, unable to pretend like he didn’t care too much any longer.  
Had Sirius, instead of Remus, found him in the kitchen on that late morning, and taken the note, Harry may not ever have seen it again. At least not without promising to text the person and go on a date with them.  
Remus’ strategy was less obvious.  
“Ok”, was all Remus said, then he handed the note back to Harry, even giving Harry an illusion of piece by letting him sit back down and take a sip of tea, meanwhile pouring water into his own mug, before saying: “So, I assume you haven’t texted the person yet?”  
“No”, Harry admitted. “I was about to do it.”  
“No need to justify yourself. No need to text anyone, either, if you’d rather not.”  
“But I do want to”, Harry said after a short pause.  
“Of course you do. Now, if you don’t text the person today, that’s fine. If not tomorrow, that’s still fine. But in a week, things might be weird. Not saying they will be”, Remus said at Harry’s slightly horrified facial expression, “but they might, and judging from the look you gave me just now, you would not want that. So why don’t you finish your tea, and perhaps have a cookie or two to calm your nerves and get your brain prepared to come up with something that convinces you enough to send it off, and then write that text message?”  
Harry could hardly not agree to that, could he?  
So he had a few cookies, drank his tea before it went completely cold and let Remus distract him by answering various question about his time spent volunteering abroad (those questions that he hadn’t yet answered in various skype calls and long emails, that is). When he started his way up to his room half an hour later, he felt prepared.  
When he took his phone out of his pocket and started typing in the number, he felt less prepared already, and by the time he started typing out the message he might have called himself a small bundle of nerves again, similar to how he’d been when alone in the kitchen, only now he had decided on a course of action, and that seemed to make all the difference, for after a few nervous minutes and half a dozen started and aborted message drafts, he’d sent a version he think he could live with.  
And if not, well London – if the guy even was from London – was big enough to avoid one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see from the tags, Harry is trans. I will write down his experience as best as I can and his identity will more or less resemble my own for the reason of authenticity, but please just remember that there is not one right way to be trans, and I am always open for constructive criticism and general feedback


	2. A First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they go out

Draco Malfoy was nervous. Not that he’d ever admit to that out loud, he was a Malfoy after all, and Malfoys didn’t get nervous when waiting for the boy they were going on a date with. (Draco hoped that it was a date, anyway.)  
Then again, according to his father, Malfoys didn’t date boys, and Draco had hardly been sticking to that rule. He should stop trying to adhere to the rest of those made-up, unwritten rules, really.  
Except the ones he liked, such as having a calm and neutral mask on your face even if internally you were debating whether to run back home because you’d already been waiting for ten minutes (it was hardly Draco’s fault he’d been twelve minutes early, was it?)  
Finally, at one or two minutes past seven (if he checked the time right when Harry arrived he might piss Harry off, Draco feared, so he could only guess what time it was) someone tapped him on the shoulder.  
Draco turned around. It was Harry. Surprise.  
“Hi. Sorry I’m late”, Harry said and pulled Draco in for a short hug. Draco mumbled some greeting in response and something about how he didn’t mind about the being late, too baffled by being hugged.  
Malfoy boys didn’t hug other boys.  
Screw that, Malfoy boys didn’t shag other boys, either, and yet he thought that was the only entertaining thing he’d done during his first one and a half years at university.  
“So, where do you suggest we go?” Harry asked when they stood facing each other once again.  
“Why do I have to pick?” Draco couldn’t help asking.  
“Because you suggested we meet here, so I am now in a part of London where I hardly ever go and have no idea where the nice places are.”  
“Fair enough”, Draco admitted and then came up with a place they could go to, to his own mild surprise. 

*

“So, are you studying?” Harry asked when they were sat in the small back garden of a little pub with two beers on the table between them.  
“Sort of”, Draco replied. He raised his glass to toast Harry, took a sip and then continued. “I started law school two years ago, but have come to find that it’s not actually my thing. So over the course of the past year I’ve decided that I wouldn’t continue after this summer.”  
“So what is your thing?” Harry asked on. Could Draco hear a tiny bit of seduction in that voice? He couldn’t be sure.  
“I don’t know. But for now, I’ve applied to start studying English next semester. We’ll see how that goes. It’s bound to piss my father off.”  
“So is spite your main motivation?” Harry chuckled while he posed the question.  
“No.” Draco paused. “Well, maybe a bit, too. For I have considered medicine as well, and while I’m sure he’d be only mildly happy with that, he’d be delighted compared to learning about my actual plans.” Draco shuddered internally at the memory of him telling his father about his plans. Maybe it had been a decision made even less out of spite than he’d thought. “And what about you?” he asked Harry to achieve a change of topic.  
“I finished school a year ago and then started studying agricultural sciences.”  
“Do you enjoy your studies?” Draco inquired when Harry didn’t explain further.  
“Yes, most of the time. I had to do a placement sort of thing though this summer for a few weeks, and that was the most enjoyable and interesting thing of the whole year, I think. I learnt so much!”  
“Doesn’t particularly speak in your courses’ favour then”, Draco suggested.  
“The course is ok. No, it’s better, it’s actually really good. It’s just that the farm I went to was exactly the sort of place I’d like to have one day, and very similar to the place that made me want to study agricultural sciences.”  
“Cool. What sort of a place was that farm?”  
“They mainly plant vegetables, but they have a few animals as well, and a lot of trees for fruits and nuts and all that.  
“The really cool thing is that they want to be self-sustained and getting as much out of their land as they can without having a negative impact on the environment. And the people that run the place are great. They know so much. And because I was so interested and fascinated I learnt very much too, I think.”  
“Sounds nice. Was this somewhere in England?”  
“Nah, though there is a really cool place a bit like that in England. But I decided I might as well try my luck with the other one and get to practise some French, if they would have me as a volunteer. Which they did.”  
“Lucky you”, Draco said and tried a small smile. Harry smiled back after an instant’s delay, and Draco’s stomach did a small somersault.  
They spent the next few hours chatting away and drinking their drinks.  
Seeing as Draco lived not too far away, he offered to walk Harry back to the tube station when they left the pub sometime after nine.  
“I had a great time”, Harry said after they’d hugged goodbye. “Let’s do something again sometime.”  
“Sounds like a good idea”, Draco agreed.

*

“How was your date, Draco?” Luna asked as Draco entered their shared apartment.  
“It… I’m not sure it was a date”, Draco answered.  
“How was your maybe-it-was-a-date-date then?” Garrick asked.  
“Fine.”  
“Sounds convinced”, Garrick whispered to Luna in a volume that definitely intended for the words to be heard by Draco.  
Sighing, but with a smile on his face he took off his shoes and hung up his jacket before he joined his two flatmates in the kitchen that doubled as a small living room (it was a big kitchen, and Luna had insisted that they need a couch in there when she’d moved in. Draco hadn’t given in until Garrick had moved into what had previously been a sort of living room).  
He sat down at the table next to the couch and chuckled at the matching curious expressions on the two faces across the table. “Alright. We had a nice evening in a pub. We chatted, we laughed, we…. He is really cute. And handsome. I definitely like him and want to see him again.”  
“You will”, Luna assured him.  
Draco agreed with her silently, the bit that he was insecure about was whether they would ever get past a ‘just friends’ sort of stage.  
Of course, he’d left just his number and Harry had messaged him, and while Harry couldn’t have known it was him from the note he’d left, he still tried to take it as a good sign.  
Yet for all Draco new, Harry might’ve expected someone called ‘Daphne’ or ‘Desiree’ or whatever else behind that note.  
But then, would he ever have agreed to go out sometime? Wouldn’t he have found an excuse not to when he found out ‘D’ was a guy? Was it all just platonic for Harry and he met all his friends via notes with mobile numbers, left in jacket pockets because people were too shy to actually speak to one another?  
“Draco?”  
Draco made an absent-minded noise that was meant to reassure Luna that he was still alright. It didn’t work.  
“Are you alright? You look a bit sad.”  
“I’m alright”, he said. “Just started over-thinking stuff.”  
“What stuff?” Luna asked.  
“Tonight. Like what if he’s just platonically interested, and just wants to be friends?”  
“Would that be a bad thing?”  
“For my heart, yes, I think”, Draco said. “I like him way too much already for the short time we’ve spent together. This is going to be a catastrophe. I’m sure he just wants to be friends and-“  
At this point, Garrick interrupted Draco’s slightly panicked rant.  
“Everyone who has fallen in love has had their heart broken at some point, Draco”, he said. “It’s part of it and there is nothing you can do about it. Try not to overthink things if you can and just see what happens in time. You can’t change the way either of you feel anyway.”  
“You’re right”, Draco agreed. “Thanks.”  
“Don’t mention it. Good night to both of you.” With these words, Garrick rose from the couch and walked out of the kitchen.  
“Do you want a cup of tea?” Draco asked Luna as he rose to put on some water.  
“Oh, yes please. That reminds me, I wanted to try the new tea I bought today. I’ll go and get it.”  
When she reappeared a few seconds later, she was carrying a rather small, bright pink tin, decorated with glitter, rainbows and hand-painted unicorns. Draco immediately recognised it as the tin that she and Garrick had spent many an evening (and a few almost-fights) over colouring and painting. Garrick (who was a fantastic artist and could draw in a photo-realistic way when he wanted to) had had to paint the unicorns, of course. From what he’d witnessed, Draco had come to suspect that a lack of communication had been one of the main problems.  
However, the tin now stood on the counter in front of Draco in all the glamour of its completed design, and he had to admit it looked fabulous and the hassle of decorating it had probably been worth it.  
“What sort of tea did you buy?” he asked.  
“It was called unicorn tea. I think it’s a fruity blend of some sort”, Luna said and opened the box to put some tea into two tea strainers, placing them in the cups to wait for the water to boil.  
“That’s cool, to have some unicorn-tea in this apartment”, Draco mused.  
“That’s just what I thought. Plus, it’s made the unicorns on this tin really happy.”  
“I’m sure it did”, Draco agreed as he poured the now boiling water into their cups. A fruity smell started to come from the general direction of the cups and the liquid inside turned a purple-pink sort of colour.  
“So, how was your day working at the animal shelter?” Draco asked Luna as they both sat down on the couch with their teaming cups of tea.  
“Oh, it was excellent…” Luna started and then proceeded to tell him more about what had happened all day. It was a god distraction from his nagging thoughts and insecurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has left kudos or comments on this story so far, you have truly been motivating to me!  
> I hardly understand the British education system in detail though and have so far been too lazy to do any research on how it all really works, so if any of you notices something that doesn't add up (education-wise or in general) please feel free to point it out, as well as freely stating your opinion so long as you are respectful :)


	3. A Date and some Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go out again, and Harry gathers up his courage to come out to Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I even believed myself I'd be posting another chapter again, but here we go
> 
> Harry in this story identifies as nonbinary and transmasculine, he would not refer to himself as 100% a man but he finds it a fitting enough label and also knows he certainly is not a woman

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Remus asked Harry just before him and Sirius were due to leave for the day on Saturday morning.  
“Yes, it’s still a no. I’ll finish writing up my report about the farmstay in France and then I’m hanging out with Ron in the afternoon”, Harry answered. “You guys have fun biking around the countryside, it’s not really my cup of tea anyway.”  
“I know”, Sirius said, walking into the kitchen in full motorbike gear. “James would be so-“  
“James would be proud of you”, Remus interrupted. “Besides, James was only ever really after the rush of the speed, and for him Sirius’ motorbike was a nice means to go fast.”  
In regards of liking speedy things, Harry did take after his father, was Remus’s implication, without him having to say it out loud. To Harry, there were few things better than speed, he just didn’t like engines that ran on petrol. Luckily, he had a nice, fast bicycle stored in the basement and a friend who bred fast-running horses.  
“I was going to say the same”, Sirius said to Remus, and half to Harry too. “I was also just going to say how he might have been surprised by the amount of resistance you have against motorbikes. And then proud again for being so stubborn.” He said the last sentence with a crooked grin on his face and a tiny bit of sadness visible around the eyes, as they always got when he talked about his dead best friend.  
“Have we got everything we need?” Remus asked Sirius. Sirius nodded and they both hugged Harry goodbye before leaving the house. Soon, he heard the roar of the engine outside and another few moments later he was alone in the now too-silent big house.  
They really needed to renovate the rest of the house (so far, they’d only done their respective bedrooms, a bathroom and the kitchen, this also being the reason they always hung out there – they did not yet have a living room comfortable enough to want to spend time in) and then get some housemates to fill the space.  
Deciding to do something about this, rather than just complaining about being lonely, Harry braved what was to be their living room, armed with several waste bags and a vacuum cleaner. The report wasn’t due for another week, and while it would be nice to have it done well before that, it would also be nice to have a proper living room sometime soon.  
Therefore, when Ron arrived in the afternoon, he was able to serve him tea in the living room, though they had to sit on the floor because for Sirius’ ancestors, whom he’d inherited the house from at the beginning of the year, comfort did not seem to have been a necessary trait in a couch.  
Therefore, Harry hadn’t even bothered to clean the two couches standing against the walls, deciding to have them burnt and replaced (they were, after years of neglect, not only very uncomfortable but also grossly dirty-looking and the cover torn in places).  
“This is starting to look nice”, Ron commented approvingly. “Good job for half a day’s work. If you feed me some cookies with the tea, I could help you get a bit more done.”  
Cookies appeared shortly thereafter, and twenty minutes after their disappearance, the couches started disappearing from the living room, to be kept in the back garden under some tarpaulin until they could be taken to the tip.  
“Ugh, I’m so glad we got those out of the house”, Harry said with a shiver when they returned to the now couch-free room. “Do you think we could get the armchair and the broken furniture out as well?”  
Ron thought they could, and so they did, afterwards going out to do some shopping for dinner. 

*

Remus, Sirius and Harry passed Sunday in a rather lazy mix of reading, drinking tea and making plans as to how to furnish and decorate the now mostly empty living room.  
Monday saw Sirius back off to work, with Remus, due to being unemployed, staying at home, but getting to the task of cleaning an abandoned bedroom, and Harry retracting to a workplace at university because he’d be far too tempted to let helping Remus distract him from actually doing anything for his report.  
Tuesday evening, after having spent the second day of the week largely the same as the first, Harry realised it had been almost a week – five days – since he’d last seen Draco. Should he text him and ask him out again? Or should he wait a bit longer?  
After fifteen minutes of fruitless pondering, he decided to forget about what texting Draco now would seem like and what texting him later, or not at all, would seem like, and how every option had its own merits. He took out his phone and drafted out a message, altering it here and there and then sending it off before leaving his phone on the bed to go down to the kitchen and assist Remus with dinner preparations.  
After dinner, he dared look at his phone. Draco had answered. He did want to meet up, but could not make it Friday night, as Harry had suggested, opting for Saturday afternoon instead and also stating that Harry would be welcome to plan their afternoon out.  
Harry sighed a little at reading this, despite being happy with the response. He had feared Draco might suggest something like this. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have ideas. He had many, one of them featuring prominently in his mind as a candidate for next Saturday, but he didn’t know if Draco would like it.

*

Harry stomach did a little somersault when he spotted Draco walking around the corner on Saturday and he couldn’t help the smile that had been on his face already deepening.  
“Hey, nice to see you again”, he said to Draco as they hugged.  
“So, what’ the plan?” Draco asked when Harry started walking determinedly in a direction.  
“There’s a park nearby, and there’s a small festival going on this weekend”, Harry explained. “The festival’s free”, he added. “And…I just really like it. I have been… I grew up near here and used to go to it often when I was younger.”  
“Have you lived in London all your live?” Draco asked.  
Harry hesitated for a split second before answering “no. I used to live with my aunt and her family for all of my childhood and part of my teenage years too. Then, when I was about fifteen years old, my godfather invited me to live with him and his boyfriend. And so I did.  
“What about you?” he asked before Draco might think to ask further than Harry wanted to talk about right then.  
“I grew up in Wiltshire, I’ve only been here since I started studying at university two years ago.”  
“Do you like London?” Harry prompted.  
“Yes. It’s also nice to be living more independently, not at home anymore.”  
“HARRY!” The shout coming from behind them gave Harry the faintest of warnings before he was enveloped in an enthusiastic and slightly rib-crushing hug. Even if the flurry of red hair that covered both their faces hadn’t given her away, Harry knew no one who gave hugs quite like Ginny – lovely when you were feeling down and wanted to be held, a bit scary when a binder was already squeezing your ribs.  
“Need to breathe”, Harry reminded her and she let go of him and stepped back to look at his companion.  
“And who is this?” she asked.  
“Draco, let me introduce you to Ginny. Long-time friend.” Ginny nodded and smiled at Draco.  
“Ginny, this is Draco, a… friend?” he looked at Draco inquiringly to ask whether they were indeed already friends. Draco gave the slightest of nods and smirked slightly. Harry had the inkling only he was meant to see that smirk.  
“Nice to meet you, Ginny”, Draco said and extended his hand for her to shake.  
“Yeah, nice to meet you too”, Ginny said. “Do you guys mind if I keep you company for half an hour or so? Neville was supposed to meet me here five minutes ago, but he is late…”  
Harry looked at Draco and tried to ask his opinion non-verbally. He wasn’t too sure, but he didn’t think Draco was all too opposed to Ginny’s suggestion. “No, we don’t mind”, he said. “Shall we get something to drink?”  
As they were standing at the bar, waiting for the drinks, he pulled Draco aside a bit, to make sure he was ok with Ginny keeping them company for a bit (which Draco was) and also to fill him in on the fact that Neville and Ginny were dating but no one in their circle of friends was sure whether a relationship would emerge from it, and that he was welcome to join them in betting on either outcome if he wanted to (which Draco did not).  
Neville actually did show up after about forty minutes, chatting with them for another ten minutes before walking with Ginny to the front of the crowd in front of the stage where a band was playing.  
Finally alone with Draco again (Harry hoped his relief about this wouldn’t be too obviously visible – not that he didn’t like Ginny, he really did, but he sort of also wanted to enjoy the time with Draco only and get to know him better), he looked at Draco and asked: “Do you like it so far?”  
Draco nodded and smiled in response. “It’s a lovely event.”  
They stayed there, sitting on the grass talking, then, when a band whose music they both enjoyed more started playing, they wandered over to the outskirts of the crowd in front of the stage. 

*

“Do you want to come to my place for a drink or so?” Harry asked when the music had stopped and the festival crowds started dispersing. “It’s about a five minutes’ walk only”, he added.  
“Sure”, Draco said.  
Back at the empty house (Sirius and Remus were off to Devon for the weekend and not due to return before Sunday), Harry led them into the kitchen and got two beers out of the Fridge.  
“Before I get too drunk”, he said, after he’d taken his first sip from the bottle. “I wanted to tell you something. About me.” Harry hesitated, eventually taking Draco’s silence as an invitation to continue.  
“I’m transgender. That is, I was assigned female when I was born. But that’s not what I identify as. I don’t feel like I’m completely a man either, but it fits a lot better than ‘woman’. So…yes, that’s it.”  
Harry refused to give in to the temptation to just close his eyes and wish he was far away. That would not help, and besides, he really did not want to run away from Draco. As long as Draco was not about to turn out an utter transphobic arse, that was.  
Instead he looked at Draco, who was looking at him.  
“I don’t really know what to say to that”, Draco said after a while. “Thank you for trusting me with this, of course. And well… it doesn’t make a difference to me, you’re still the same person.”  
“Thanks”, Harry said.  
“Are your parents ok with it?” Draco asked.  
“Yes… Well, at least my current ones are”, Harry replied, and explained a bit further at Draco’s puzzled look.  
“My parents… the ones I am actually related to, that is, died when I was a year old. I was then given to my aunt and uncle to care for me, but we did not get along too well, and yeah…  
“When I was about thirteen, my godfather reappeared. After my parents’ death, there were some people blaming him. It wasn’t his fault, but he got fed up with being blamed, and also threatened, and left the country. He’s never told me why, but when I was thirteen he re-entered England and started writing letters to me. My aunt found them and then I was forbidden from contacting him, but my godfather – Sirius – would come and find me at school or other places.  
“When I was fifteen, he and his partner, Remus, succeeded in proving that Sirius was innocent in my parents’ death, and that’s when we decided that I would go and live with them.  
“So, Sirius and Remus are great about it all, my aunt and uncle and cousin pretend they don’t know I have a different name and pronouns now, and my birth parents most likely will never know.”  
“Wow”, was all that Draco said. “Sorry about your dead parents. And here I thought I had a dramatic family background.”  
“Do you now?” Harry asked.  
“Well, the drama comes mainly from my father being a drama queen. Though you should not say that to his face if you value your life”, Draco said. “And my mom would not dare contradict him, and is mainly fussed about a good appearance. You can imagine how delighted she was when I told her I liked boys. But we get on surprisingly fine as long as I’m in London and they are in Wiltshire.  
“Don’t you have something like a living room? Not that I don’t like the kitchen, but I’d love to sit somewhere more comfortable, like on a couch.”  
“We do have a living room”, Harry said. “But it’s in the middle of being refurbished, and currently rather empty. More precisely, a friend and I threw out all the couches and armchairs this week, because they were so old and gross. And we haven’t got any new ones yet.”  
“Tough luck”, Draco said. “You should put a couch in this kitchen. It’s big enough, and would make a good place to sit. We have one in our apartment, I know what I’m talking about.”  
“I’m surprised none of us have thought of this so far, but it could work out well”, Harry agreed. “I’ll suggest it to Remus and Sirius next week. As for now, we can go to my bedroom, if you want somewhere more comfortable to sit. And if you don’t mind a bit of a mess.”  
“I should survive, let’s go.”  
Arrived in his room, Harry cleared some things off his bed and then motioned for Draco sit wherever he pleased. True to his former complaining about a lack of somewhere comfortable to sit, Draco chose to sit on Harry’s bed. Harry’s conscious was not at all helpful by suggesting various things that Draco could be doing in that space (ideally with and to Harry) apart from just sitting on its edge. Harry ignored those suggestions and sat on the carpeted floor to face Draco.  
“Well, despite the mess, I like your room”, Draco decided after looking around for a bit. “Must be the charm of the slanted roof, I’m sure.” Harry had chosen one of the two rooms at the top floor of the house, not least because he wanted to be sure not to hear Remus and Sirius when they were having sex two floors below. And vice versa.  
“Thanks”, Harry retorted drily. “I like it too.”  
“Not to be rude”, Draco said after while of them chatting, looking at his phone, getting up from his sitting position. “But it is getting quite late, so I think I should get going home soon.”  
After a look at the time, Harry could only agree, if he was a bit sad too. Then again, he would certainly see Draco again soon enough. “I’ll walk you to the tube station?”  
Draco nodded and they got on their way.  
“Hey, do you want to come and hang out tomorrow at my place? Maybe in the late afternoon, and we could cook dinner?” Draco asked as they were walking outside the house. “You’d have to put up with my flatmates, at least for the dinner part, but they are lovely, if maybe a bit… out of the ordinary.”  
“Out of the ordinary sounds good”, Harry replied with a smile. ”I would definitely like that.”  
“Great. I’ll text you tomorrow with time and address details and whatnot.” They had arrived at an entrance to the tube station, and Draco pulled Harry in for a long hug before turning and heading down the stairs.  
Harry was left staring after him, his hand on the spot on his cheek where he was pretty sure he’d just felt Draco’s lips a few seconds ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	4. Dinner and a Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes well at least this one didn't take me half a year...

The next morning saw Draco torn out of his dreams by his phone ringing. He almost ignored it, but then he remembered he’d promised Pansy good reasons for ditching her last night. It likely was her calling to hear those reasons, at bloody nine am, he realised with a look at his phone. And yes, it was indeed Pansy calling.   
Sighing, Draco accepted the call. “What gives you the idea you need to call me at this early hour on a Sunday?” he asked as a greeting.  
“A wonderful good morning to you, too”, Pansy replied. “You know very well that I am calling to hear who for you skipped our monthly dinner and film night last night. And I thought I’d do so before you decide to go off doing who knows what to that bloke, giving you a good reason to ignore my calls.”  
Draco groaned slightly, hoping Pansy would hear. Or anyone else, and release him from his current situation.  
“I want every juicy detail, you hear?” Pansy continued. “After all, there must be a lot of them if you chose his over my company last night. Or is he still in your bed and you can’t talk?”  
That would’ve given Draco an easy way out, but he knew better than to lie to one of his oldest friends. Time had proven that she would see through every lie in time and then make him pay for his mistake.  
“He is not”, Draco said and then went on to tell her about last night, leaving out his near-meltdown in the tube, caused by over-worrying about the fact that he had sort of kissed Harry on the cheek. Should he not have done that? Or should he have kissed him properly? And so on.   
Really, not anything he wanted to get into again right now. Or ever again. But oh Merlin, he had invited Harry over to his flat for the afternoon, so he’d probably be confronted with this all sooner than he wished again.  
“Pansy, I’ve got to go”, he said shortly thereafter, realising that not much was going to help with his building anxiety other than doing some art. Which he’d need some time for. “Bye, have a nice day, see you Tuesday.”  
“Bye Draco”, Pansy said and he hung up before she could change her mind and ask him more questions. Not ones he’d want to answer anyway. Not now, and probably not ever.

*

‘What time do you want me to come over?’ Draco read Harry’s text in the early afternoon, having just put his art utensils away.  
‘Around 5? Sorry for making it a bit late, but I’ve still got some things to do for uni and got a bit caught up with painting in the morning’, Draco replied, as well as sending his address.  
Harry’s reply ‘ok, cu then’ was almost immediate and Draco felt a bit bad about not answering Harry’s previous text for two hours. Then again, he’d been busy and not checking his phone.   
‘But I will be wanting to see your art at some point, if that’s ok’  
Draco figured he could live with that.

*

“You actually do have a couch in your kitchen”, was the first thing Harry said upon entering the room at the end of the short tour of the apartment that Draco had just given led him through.  
“Yes, did you think I’d just made that one up?” Draco asked, mock offended.  
“Yes… no? I don’t know, I’m just surprised.” As if to make sure it was actually real, and not just an illusion, Harry walked over to the couch and flopped down on it.  
“Can I offer you something to drink?” Draco asked, getting two glasses out of the cupboard already. “I can highly recommend the iced tea that Luna’s made”, he continued, motioning to a glass jug filled with a dark purple, slightly transparent liquid.  
“Oh yes, I’ll try some of that.”  
Draco poured them each a glass and then suggested that they go and sit on the balcony in the sun, which they did.  
After enjoying the late afternoon sunshine for about an hour, Draco brought up the topic of dinner.  
“I think Luna wants us to make Pizza for dinner, she prepared a Pizza dough this morning”, he started. “There’s no need to, though, if you’d rather cook something else”, he added. “We could just put it in the freezer to use some other time.”  
“Pizza sounds like an excellent idea”, Harry said. “And I wouldn’t want to risk upsetting your flatmate before I’ve even met her.”  
“Ah don’t worry, she is rather hard to upset as long as you’re friendly”, Draco reassured him, “and seeing as you like her tea, you’ve already got some good points on her sheet.”

*

Draco, Luna and Harry had a fun time preparing the pizza, and just as they had put the trays in the oven, the apartment door opened to let in Garrick, who had been out hiking all day.  
After an entertaining diner during which Harry got to know Draco’s flatmates a bit and vice versa, Draco decided that he should form a plan to get Harry out of the place before Luna or Garrick decided to set him and Harry up. Not that he did not somehow want the help, but he was also determined to manage without his flatmates all but telling Harry about Draco’s crush on him.  
Draco’s not-so-successful scheming was interrupted as Harry announced that he’d be going now as it was a beautiful evening and he wanted to take advantage of this to go for a walk on his way home. “If anyone wants to come along, you’re very welcome to”, he added, almost as an afterthought.  
Garrick declined, saying he’d had enough walking for the day, but Luna and Draco both said they’d join him.  
“I was actually going to suggest the same thing”, Luna said. “The weather today might get the crumple-horned snorkacks to come out of their hiding spots.”  
“I thought they lived in Sweden?” Draco asked, hiding his amusement well.  
“Well, they originally come from there, but evidence points towards all or some of them having migrated to England, and some even into the heart of London.”  
Draco looked at Harry, catching his confused look, and tried to stop him from asking any questions right now with a look. Harry did not ask, whether it was because Draco had succeeded or of his own accord he could not be sure.  
Shortly thereafter, the three of them left the house, headed towards Hyde Park. On the way, Harry pulled Draco back a bit and asked him what Snorkacks were. Draco answered that he was not sure what they were exactly and if they even existed outside Luna’s mind, but if they did live in London, it would be in Hyde Park (according to Luna). Correspondingly, Luna bid them farewell as they reached the park, saying she should be looking for the Snorkacks on her own as they were very shy.  
They watched as she walked off over the grass and then continued their walk. “She has her odd streaks”, Draco admitted. “But she has been a lovely friend to me this past year, and still is. Besides, she could never afford housing with as little as they pay her at the animal shelter. So I let her live in the apartment for free. It belongs to my parents anyway, and though they would hate to hear I am sharing the place, it’s actually too big to live in on your own.”  
When they’d just reached a bank of the Thames, fat rain drops started falling. Within minutes, a thunderstorm had fully begun, leaving them no other option than to go and find some shelter.  
A bit drenched, they stood under a roof with about a dozen other people, most of them out on evening walks and surprised by the change in the weather as well. “I hope Luna will be ok”, Harry said.  
“She will be”, Draco assured him. “She always finds the most amazing solutions for these kinds of situations. I did not see that coming, though.”  
“It’s hardly surprising, if you think about today’s warm weather. But I didn’t expect it just yet either. It all went really fast all of a sudden.”  
Draco nodded in agreement and looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry did not notice, or else Draco doubted he would have kept that look on his face. He was looking at Draco with a longing expression, and also a bit sad? It was hard to tell, but he did not seem to be completely aware of his surroundings, eyes and mind rather lost somewhere on Draco’s face.  
Harry’s obvious and Draco’s more subtle staring was interrupted when the rain lessened to a drizzle and people started walking on again, one of them jostling Harry as he brushed past.   
If it had been Draco to get pushed like that, he sure would have given the man a piece of his mind about walking around other people, not through them. As it was, Harry hardly seemed to notice and Draco began to wonder if he should worry about Harry being so absent-minded.  
“I’m starting to get a bit cold”, Draco said experimentally after a few more moments. “Should we get going towards a tube station before the rain gets heavier again?”  
“Sure”, Harry said, finally startled back into the here and now it seemed.


	5. 5. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry that this is so short and perhaps a bit abrupt. But I just wanted to finish the story and could not today seem to write a better ending for it. (But that is just my writing crisis for you.)

“Hey. Glad you could make it on such short notice”, Draco said to Harry in greeting as they met outside Grimmauld Place.  
“Sure”, was all Harry replied, giving Draco a small smile and hugging him. “So why did you order me outside at this late hour?” Harry asked.  
“Late? It’s only just half nine!” Draco exclaimed.  
“Yes, you’re right, that is not so late”, Harry agreed. “But remember, I am much younger than you and do no usually dwell outside at such a late hour.”  
Draco laughed at that. “Much younger? It can’t be more than a year or two, really.”  
“Well, I can see some wrinkles and grey hair”, Harry teased him.  
“I dare you to say that again”, Draco mock threatened with a smile that he tried hard to hide. Eventually, he regained his Malfoy Poker Face, only to lose it again when Harry had the audacity to place a hand in his hair, pretending to look for any grey strands. Well, he had said to hell with all that Malfoy-mask and always being in control of it all anyway, hadn’t he?  
“I actually did have a reason to call you out here, other than really, really wanting to get teased by you about my non-existing grey hair. If anything, it’ll go silver anyway”, he could not help adding at the last moment.  
Harry just cocked an eyebrow, silently inviting him to elaborate. Draco realised that Harry’s hand was still in his hair. Not that he minded. Not at all. He actually had had another plan, but the circumstances seemed to call for an abandon of those plans.  
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.  
“I thought you’d never ask”, Harry replied with a smirk. “But in all honesty, I don’t know when I would have had the guts to ask you, so I’m hardly to blame you.” The last words were whispered almost inaudibly against Draco’s lips. “Still waiting for you to fulfil on your question, you know”, Harry continued when Draco seemed to be frozen. “You may.”  
With that, Draco finally regathered some of his wits about him and leant forward ever so slightly, to place his lips to Harry’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might replace this or add an alternative ending . I had my mind on something else but it did not work today. or whenever else i attempted to finish it and i really hate not working on something and not having it finished, but i did not want to abandon this as i have done with so many other works.


End file.
